


The Hardest Part

by charrrrmer



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Character Study, Drug Abuse, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Instability, Trauma, plastic beach, withdrawl
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 02:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17820401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charrrrmer/pseuds/charrrrmer
Summary: The hardest part of losing everything, is being alone in the aftermath.*A Plastic Beach fic told from Stu's perspective. A study on trauma, abuse, acceptance and growth. Heed the tags.





	The Hardest Part

The first thing he sees when he’s finally able to kick free of his tiny, dark prison, is the blinding white light of the sun, accompanied by a garish, neon-pink hue. The second thing he sees, is a clawed green hand, held out in offer to help him stand by the one person he had truly hoped to never see again.

2D wanted to be sick, “No…”, he moaned as he fell sideways, his body stiff from having been crammed inside of what appeared to be a suitcase, “this ain’t real…” he pushed himself up on all fours, his hands and knees sinking into the hot, pink sand, rotting garbage staining his skin and clothes as he feebly attempted to crawl away. Not that there was anywhere to go, the waters edge was only yards away. The ship he’d most likely been transported on, fading on the horizon.

Murdoc sighed and rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so bloody dramatic,” he walked over to the singer and reached down to lift him by the back of his shirt, “you look pathetic.”

2D squirmed and tried to break free from the bassists grip, “What the hell is this, Murdoc?” he hated how broken his voice sounded, his throat was so dry, “Where the hell are we?” He finally managed to stand on his own two feet and pulled away from Murdoc, stumbling on wobbly legs until he was out of arm's reach. 2D turned back to face his captor; anger, frustration, and despair burning in his black eyes, “You have no right, stealing me from my life!” He yelled, voice cracking from disuse, “Send me back, right now!”

Murdoc scowled, “Well, haven’t you become quite the demanding little bitch.” He stalked towards the taller man, who despite his own anger, was beginning to cower at the look on the bassists face, “Listen good, faceache,”, Murdoc reached the singer, grabbing the front of his shirt and pulling him down to his level, “you’re no honored guest, here.” His eyes narrowed dangerously, “You’ll do as you’re told, when you’re told, or you’ll suffer the consequences, understood?” 

The singer grimaced but nodded, he knew there was no use arguing. He was all too familiar with the look in Murdocs eyes; he wondered just how high the bassist was at the moment. “Yes, Murdoc…”, he whispered and the clawed hand holding him in place finally let go. He stumbled back a step and absently rubbed the wrinkles out of his shirt collar. He had to think carefully if he wanted to figure out what was going on, without getting the snot beat out of him… “Why are we here?” his voice was soft, not really expecting the other man to answer him.

A wide grin broke out across Murdoc’s face and he spread his arms, his entire demeanor seemingly having done a complete turn around, “Ah, yes,” his tone made it clear he was very pleased with himself, “welcome Dents, to Plastic Beach!” He waved his left arm dramatically, at the expanse of pink sand and garbage that paved the way to what appeared to be a hole carved into a cliffside that arched into the sky, high above their heads, the whole thing a hideous shade of hot pink. “You can't see it from here, but I’ve got a whole bloody mansion up there!” he sounded absolutely giddy, “It's Gorillaz new headquarters!” 

2D tapped his fingertips together nervously, his face contorted in a look of pained confusion, “There is no Gorillaz,” he mumbled. Bile burned at the back of his throat as rage crept back over the bassists features, but he stood his ground, his hands falling to his sides, curling into fists, “Russel is gone, a-and Noodle is dead, Murdoc, you know that.” 2D’s shoulders shook with anguish but his eyes were dry. He wouldn’t give Murdoc the satisfaction of seeing him break down.

He clenched his jaw as Murdocs eyes narrowed; he knew what was coming but the pain that bloomed through him as the bassists fist connected with his jaw still sent him reeling. He was on the ground before he could even process the blow to his stomach. As 2D curled up, wheezing, Murdoc brought his foot down onto the singers shoulder, forcing him onto his back and effectively pinning him there, “You’ll need to watch your tone around here, mate,” he sneered as he ground his heel into the others shoulder, “I’m not fucking around.”

The singer gripped Murdocs ankle with both hands and attempted to throw him off, but due to his weak state, was hardly able to budge the older man, “Let’s just go home,” he whined as Murdoc leaned into the heel grinding against his collarbone, “please Murdoc, you’ve relapsed and you need help!”

In a flash, the foot that had been pinning him down was gone, but before he could sit up, Murdoc had his hands clasped tightly around his throat. 2D lashed out in a blind panic, his hands pushing at his assailants chest, only to have the grip on his throat tighten. Finally, he stopped struggling and went limp in the hopes that Murdoc would let up at the show of submission.

“You mean go back to Kong? Where you left me?” Murdoc ground his teeth as he spit his words, “It’s gone; I burnt it down.” He shoved 2D back against the ground, moving his hands to pin the singers shoulders, long nails piercing his skin through his thin t-shirt, ”This is home now, and you will stay on this island, until I say otherwise!” 

2D gasped for breath and tried not to move. He knew that agitating the bassist further may just get him killed at this point, so instead of arguing or fighting back, he just lay there, staring at Murdoc and breathing unsteadily. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, a static crackle emitted from a small radio clipped to Murdocs belt, followed by a flat, robotic voice, “Storm approaching- high winds to begin in approximately 15 minutes- it would be wise to stay indoors.” 

Murdoc got to his feet and unclipped the radio from his belt, “Copy that, poppet, heading in now.” He replaced the device and glared down at the man at his feet, “Get up dullard, I have more important things to be dealing with right now.”

The singer whimpered but didn't say anything as he got to his feet. His hands shook and he wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to cover the tell-tale sign of an imminent panic attack. He didn't think the satanist would be very sympathetic to his fragile state right now. He stumbled along in silence as Murdoc led them up the sandy path to the mouth of the cave. They walked down a short corridor, until they came to a gate which Murdoc pulled open before ushering the singer through. 

2D stood in the middle of what appeared to be a tiny room with three metal walls, it wasn’t until Murdoc stepped in behind him and closed the gate that he realized it was a lift. Murdoc pressed a button on a panel near the door and after a moment, the engine kicked into gear and they began their descent below sea level. 

“Aren't we supposed to be going up?” 2D couldn't hide the tremble in his voice, “What's going on, Murdoc?” he was beginning to feel claustrophobic and he wanted desperately to take his medication, the whole situation was getting to be too much for him. He began chewing on his thumb when he was met with silence. After a beat, he blurted out, “I need my meds, do you have them, Murdoc?” He fidgeted uncomfortably as the other man continued to ignore him. “Murdoc!” he reached out a hand to grip the sleeve of Murdoc’s sweater, but before he could clutch the fabric between his fingers, he’d received a blow to face that knocked him back against the cold metal wall. 2D gasped in pain and shock looking up at the bassist from where he’d crumbled on the floor. He couldn’t stem the flow of tears that cascaded down his face as he clutched his throbbing and already swollen right eye. 

“What did I say about learning your damn place, faceache?” Murdoc seethed with rage, which confused and frightened the singer. He wasn’t sure that what he’d done constituted such an intense reaction. It was now that he realized that this Murdoc wasn’t the same man he’d left at Kong. 2D didn’t rise to challenge Murdoc, choosing instead to fix his gaze on the floor. A short time later the lift stopped and the gate swung open. 

Without giving the singer a chance to get to his feet, Murdoc gripped the back of his shirt, dragging him onto a narrow landing, leading to a single, heavy looking door. Murdoc threw 2D to the floor as he stepped to the door and used his full weight to pull it open, the singer scrambling to get on his feet behind him. With the door open, Murdoc spun to glare at 2D, “Get in, and keep your trap shut.”

After a brief moment of hesitation, 2D tentatively stepped past him, entering a small, cold room, with exposed piping crisscrossing near the ceiling and along the walls. There was a porthole window, granting a view of the garbage filled ocean beyond. Below the window, was a twin bed, and to his dismay, 2D noted that many of his old belongings from Kong were scattered about the room. “You can’t be serious…” he murmured, afraid of setting off the bassist, who stood blocking the doorway, “Murdoc, c’mon…” He turned to plead with the man but was met with a stony stare and squared shoulders.

“This is where I’ll leave you, 2D.” Murdoc’s tone made it clear that there would be no arguing, “You will stay in this room until I come for you, and if you so much as attempt to leave,” he nodded at the porthole window, “my friend there, will stop you.”

2D’s blood turned to ice before he even turned to see the massive eye staring through the window at him. Murdoc had a whale watching him. If he hadn’t been scared out of his mind, 2D might have laughed. As it was, he turned back to Murdoc, who was already leaving, shutting the door behind him, “Murdoc, NO!” 2D screamed and threw himself at the door, just as it clanged shut, “MURDOC!” he pounded his fists against the cold, unforgiving metal, his hands bruising from the force of the impact, “You can’t do this, Murdoc, let me out!” he wailed and cried, beating his hands against the door until he couldn’t take the pain anymore. He sank to the floor, clutching handfuls of his own hair in his bruised fingers, “Don’t leave me down here,” he sobbed into the floor, fear paralyzing him, keeping him from turning back to face the monster at the window, “please, come back.” 

He didn’t know how long he cried, curled up on the floor. What he did know, was that the pain behind his eyes was becoming unbearable and he had to find his pills. They had to be here, somewhere. He wouldn’t even entertain the notion that they weren’t. Murdoc wouldn’t go that far… would he? 

2D took a few shaky breaths before forcing himself to his hands and knees, flinching as he put weight on his sore hands. A small, hiccup of a whimper escaped him as he peered over his shoulder at the window; the whale was gone. He quickly shot across the room to pull the curtain shut before it could come back. Having the window covered hardly helped, after all, he knew it was still out there, lurking and hungry… 

He let out a frustrated sob and grit his teeth against the vice-like grip the migraine was taking across the back of his head. His body was tensing and locking up on him and he was helpless to stop it. He couldn’t even focus his eyes enough to figure out how to turn the light off. 2D was trapped in his own, personal Hell. 

A sudden, white-hot pain sliced through the singers brain, as if someone had taken a razor to it, causing him to collapse on the small bed where he’d knelt to reach the curtains. He held his palms pressed firmly against his eye sockets in an attempt hold his skull together as it threatened to splinter. After a moment, it passed and turned into bitter ache in his temples. He really needed his fucking pills.

Nausea roiled in his gut and a cold sweat broke across his brow, even his teeth ached, though he was unsure of whether it was from clenching his jaw, or just another part of the process… He hadn’t experienced a migraine of this magnitude since he was a child, before his mother made sure to keep the medicine cabinet stocked to the brim with jars full of tiny, white capsules. 

2D took deep, gasping breaths as he attempted to build his resolve so he could keep searching. He cried out as he sat up, his head pounding. Looking blearily around the room, he spotted a small table with three drawers at the other end of the bed, it was the same table he’d kept his meds in back at Kong and for the first time since he got to this horrible place, he felt hope. He scrambled over to it, knocking it over in his haste to pull open the top drawer. The cacophony of the crash sent stabs of pain prickling through him and he took a moment to close his eyes and fight down the urge to be sick before he slowly lowered himself to the floor to pick through the garbage and various items that’d scattered across the floor.

Tears dripped from his chin and lights flashed in his peripheral vision as it slowly became clear to 2D that his pills were not among the mess. He sobbed, even though it made his head pound harshly, snot and tears dripping down his face. 2D couldn’t believe Murdoc would do this to him… he couldn’t begin to process all that had happened to him in just one day... In total dejection he lay down on the cold floor and eventually, thankfully, passed out from pain and exhaustion.


End file.
